Nyctophilia
by Cheeky Slytherin Lass
Summary: It's those little late night moments that make him feel alive again.:: Or in which goodbye is inevitable, but the night gives them hope.


_For the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition. Round One._

 **Holyhead Harpies, Beater Two**

 **Mandatory Prompt:** Write about Beater One's NOTP (DracoGinny)

 **Optional Prompts:** (word) liar

(quote) "The problem with people is they forget that most of the time it's the small things that count."- Theodore Finch, All the Bright Places

 **Word Count:** 2,668

Thank you, Sam and Bex, for beta-ing.

* * *

Draco always hated the nighttime patrol duty, and that feeling has only grown now that he's Head Boy. At least there had been chances to stumble upon someone out past curfew as a prefect. Now, however, no one dares to face the Carrows' wrath. They either stay in their dormitories or are careful enough that Draco would probably never noticed them at all. Really, he doubts even Potter would be stupid enough to sneak out if he were here.

With a sigh, he turns the corner, wondering if anyone would notice if he slipped back to his dormitory for the night. A sudden weight crashing against him snaps him out of his thoughts instantly.

"Weasley?"

Potter would have been smart enough to stay in his dormitory. This sentiment apparently cannot be applied to Ginny Weasley.

Before he can warn her or take away points, he hears a voice in the distance, followed by footsteps that grow closer by the second. "She can't have gone far," Amycus Carrow says, his voice carrying. "You check the toilets."

Ginny raises her wand. Draco knows enough about her to know that she has a reputation for hexing people quite skillfully. He shakes his head and pushes her into the shadows, pressing a finger to his lips before turning as though nothing has happened.

"Did you see her?" Amycus asks, coming to a stop, hunched over and out of breath.

"See who?" Draco asks, stepping to the side and keeping the older wizard's attention on himself.

"The Weasley girl!"

Draco rolls his eyes. "No one is dumb enough to be out of bed now," he drawls, pressing his back to the wall. "Not even a Weasley."

"But she was! We saw her!" Amycus insists, wringing his hands together. "When I catch her, I swear I'm gonna-"

"Make her wish she had never been born?" Draco supplies helpfully. "If she is out of bed, she must have taken a different route back to her dormitory. I haven't seen her."

Amycus clenches his jaw, his eyes wild. For a moment, Draco worries that he'll realize he's being lied to and snap. Draco has no intention of being anywhere near him when that finally happens. With a scowl, the professor turns on his heel, marching off, his footfall heavy. "Out of the toilets, Alecto! We went the wrong way!"

Draco waits for several moments that feel like an eternity before turning to Ginny. He expects a look of gratitude or, at the very least, confusion. Instead, when she steps out of the shadows, her cheeks are stained a deep red, and her jaw is tense. Draco scoffs. "No need to thank me," he says dryly.

"Thank you? I was fine without your help. I'm not a damsel in distress, and you most certainly aren't a knight," she snaps.

Draco takes a step back. Once, he would have had a comeback for that. He could have found something nasty and rude to say. But not now. Not anymore.

Her expression softens. Maybe she can see it in his eyes. Maybe she's just as tired of fighting as he is. "But… Thanks," she mutters. "That was nice of you."

Draco offers her a quick nod, barely a dip of his head. Without another word, he moves past her. He is definitely not in the mood to patrol tonight.

Footsteps fall behind him, faster, softer, and more graceful than the Carrows could ever manage. He rolls his eyes. "I saved you once tonight, Weasley," he says. "Don't count on a second time."

"Why did you help me?"

Draco comes to a stop. Hesitantly, he turns. He had hoped that she would just accept it and let it go. Why do Gryffindors have to be so annoyingly persistent? "You got lucky."

"It's more than that," she argues.

He takes a deep breath, fixing his eyes upon the window overlooking the grounds. "I'm tired," he sighs. "I thought I could follow in my father's footsteps; I can't. I'm not meant to be a hero. You are, and maybe helping you is enough to help me sleep better at night."

He turns his gaze back to her. Under different circumstances, her dumbstruck expression would have made him laugh. He realizes she hadn't actually expected an answer.

"Well. Goodnight, Weasley."

…

Somehow, he isn't surprised to find her out of bed again two days later. "Nasty habit to have," he says, folding his arms over his chest. "Remember, when your brothers did it, they only had to worry about getting a detention."

Ginny gives a lazy shrug of her shoulders and steps closer. "I'm not scared of the Carrows. They're just annoying."

He studies her, surprised to realize that it isn't some bravado. She really means it. If he's honest, it's pretty impressive. Even he is scared of the Carrows. "Well? What brings you out again?"

Even though she gives another shrug as though she doesn't know, Draco can see it in her eyes that she has a reason. He waits, tapping his foot repeatedly against the floor, hoping that his impatience will speed up the process.

"You're hurting, aren't you?" she asks gently.

He shakes his head, blinking rapidly as he tries to process her question. "I- What?"

"You didn't want this. It's too much for you," she says. "Except you can't just turn back now."

He scowls. What right does she have to make assumptions about him as though she knows his heart? Why should she care?

She laughs, but it isn't the cruel laugh that he would expect. It's kind, laced with traces of understanding. "I thought so. It must be lonely."

"It is," he admits before he can stop himself. "I mean… Never mind. You should be in bed."

"Suit yourself."

She turns and walks away. Draco can't explain why, but he watches her retreating figure until she's no longer in sight. Part of him wishes she had stayed.

…

"Why are you being so nice to me?" he asks when he finds her again on another patrol. "Our families don't exactly get along. I hate your brother. I hate Granger. Please don't get me started on your boyfriend."

Ginny flinches at that last word. She looks away quickly, as though a spot on the wall is suddenly the most interesting thing in the world. "Harry isn't my boyfriend anymore," she says.

It's strange to hear her voice sound so small, so frail. Even Draco can admit that she is a fierce witch. She always walks around with her head held high, carrying herself with a confidence that so few could manage naturally. It's easy to forget that she's human too.

"I guess I'm not the only one hurting," he guesses, taking a step closer and hesitantly placing a hand on her shoulder.

She stares at his hand, her expression unreadable. Luckily, she doesn't decide to break it or hex it off. "I guess not," she admits, and the smallest of smiles play at her lips.

"You didn't answer my question. Why are you being nice to me?"

"Because I was taught that everyone needs a friend sometimes," she answers simply. "You don't just walk away from someone in need, even if all you can offer them is yourself."

"Thanks, Weasley."

She laughs. "Gratitude from a Malfoy? Now I've seen everything."

"Oi! Don't get used to it."

She pulls away from his touch, her smile growing into something more solid. "Wouldn't dream of it, Malfoy."

…

By November, they've fallen into a routine. On nights when Draco doesn't patrol, Ginny does whatever she and her rebel group can to cause disruption. When he's on duty, however, she's at his side. At first, he protested, insisting it was too much of a risk. With the Carrows still prowling the corridors at night, it would be too easy for her to be discovered. After a few nights, however, they learned to listen and to hide when necessary.

It's strange, really. Never would he have thought that he would spend so much time with a Weasley.

Stranger still, he realizes that he doesn't mind at all. At the start of the year, Hogwarts seemed pointless, almost like a prison. Now, somehow, with her by his side, he can feel the small tendrils of hope wrapping around his heart.

Last year, his mother begged him not to take his father's place as a Death Eater, insisting that he didn't have the heart for it. Professor Snape suggested that he was too soft for such a life. Even Dumbledore said that he could see something else in Draco, some possibility that Draco could never see. He never believed any of them.

But he sees it now. It's in the little things that Ginny does. It's in the way she holds his hand and stands at the window with him, counting stars in the sky. It's in the way she gives him a knowing smile whenever they pass one another during the day.

Last year, Draco thought there was no way out, that he would never remember how to be happy. Now, Ginny has reminded him that anything is possible.

…

"Mum sent cake," she says. "I saved you a piece."

Draco takes it but makes a show of examining it, sniffing it.

"Oh, she didn't poison it!" she laughs.

Draco smirks. "Well, you can never trust a Weasley," he teases, taking a bite. "You lot are bad influences, you know."

"I know. She didn't poison it, but I did."

He laughs, nearly choking on the cake. Ginny covers her mouth, failing to muffle a giggle.

"Very funny, Weasley," he says before swallowing the mouthful of fudgy deliciousness.

She makes a face. "It's rude to talk with your mouth full, you know."

"It's also rude to offer your opinions when no one asked for them," he retorts with a smile.

Ginny returns the smile, a dangerous glint in her eyes. Draco takes an involuntary step back, but she closes in on him. "I'm not rude, Malfoy," she says, taking the last small piece of the cake and smashing it against his mouth. "Oh. Maybe I am."

Draco wipes away the cake from his mouth. "Be glad I like you, Ginny."

Her brows raise. At first, he doesn't understand why she looks so surprised. But then he realizes what he called her. Not _Weasley,_ but _Ginny._ It's a small gesture, something subtle that should be meaningless. Judging by her expression, however, she can feel the weight of the change just as much as he can.

She is more than just a surname now. Even Crabbe and Goyle, who he has known for years, haven't earned that level of respect.

"Well, I guess tonight is my lucky night, Draco."

Something about the way she says his name sends a shiver down his spine. Suddenly, he feels as though his name is the most important thing in the world.

Swallowing dryly, he presses his palm to her cheek and leans in, his lips meeting hers. Though her eyes widen in confusion,she returns the kiss, mirroring the motions of his lips before pulling away.

Draco waits for her to yell at him, to tell him that he is stupid, that she shouldn't have kissed him back. Instead, she wipes away the cake crumbs that have stuck to her lips and laughs. "You make a terrible plate."

"You're the one who smashed the cake in my face!" he huffs indignantly, scowling as she just smiles at him.

…

He isn't in love, and he knows that she isn't either. Maybe they're both just lonely, trying to drown out their own demons with each other. Maybe, in a different life, this could be something more, something beautiful. But Draco is far too haunted by everything he's seen over the past year. Ginny is torn by her fears for her family and, of course, Potter.

He doesn't know what they have. Maybe it's not something that even has a name. But they share something special that only grows as the months fly by.

…

"I'm going to miss you," he admits quietly.

Ginny grins and stands on her tiptoes, pressing a kiss to his lips. "It's just Easter holiday," she laughs. "It's not like this is goodbye."

His stomach clenches at that last word. _Goodbye._ He knows that it's inevitable. Even if it doesn't happen now, they have been destined to say goodbye since that first cake-laced kiss.

"Of course," he says. "I'll see your annoying face before I know it."

Ginny rolls her eyes and prods her finger gently against his chest. "Annoying face?" she echoes. "Your insults are lacking, Draco."

"Maybe."

"Definitely."

He pulls her in for one last kiss, his lips lingering against hers longer than necessary. He doesn't care if it's too much. He won't be able to do this tomorrow before they leave, and he wants to make it memorable, something to tide them over until they meet again. "I hope you have a good holiday."

"You too."

…

He isn't surprised when she doesn't come back. After the events in his home, he knows that her family is in danger.

He tells himself that it doesn't matter. They weren't anything serious, so he shouldn't miss her.

But he does. He misses the hand holding and the stolen kisses. The nights he wanders the corridors are far too quiet without her at his side, laughing and carrying on.

Only now does he realize how much the little things really meant to him, how special her presence was.

…

It's finally over for good. Draco breathes a sigh of relief. The war has ended, and maybe he can find some peace again.

"I thought it would never end," Ginny says, appearing at his side.

Draco turns to her, a lump in his throat. The last time he had seen her, she was battling his aunt. He had been so sure that he would lose her forever.

"I know," he agrees. "But here we are."

"Here we are," she echoes, but she doesn't look at him.

He follows her gaze to Potter. Of course. The war is over, and the boy she has waited for has finally returned. That inevitable goodbye has found them at last.

"It's okay," he says, trying to ignore the pain his chest. "Go to him. I don't mind."

Guilt and sadness war for dominance in her eyes as she takes Draco by the hands. "You're a terrible liar, Malfoy," she laughs, and he can hear the way her voice trembles when she says his surname.

"My lying saved your ass, Weasley."

There they are. Back to surnames. He can feel the heavy finality of this moment. He wishes he could cling to it and never let it go. Unfortunately, it's a hopeless, impossible wish.

Checking that no one is around who might see, he pulls her close. If this has to be goodbye, he wants to make it count. Their lips meet in one last kiss, a kiss so different from the rest that they have shared. He can taste all the possibilities, everything that they could have been, everything that they will never be on her lips.

"I'm sorry it couldn't be different," she sighs when she pulls away.

He wants to tell her that it can. He knows in his heart that they can be great together. But that would be unfair. Her heart belongs to someone else, and his mind is still plagued with too much darkness. "Be happy," he says, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek. "This will all be worth it if you are."

"You know, you're not so bad for a Malfoy," she teases.

"You made me better."

"No. I think it was there all along," she says, and she gives his hand a gentle squeeze before walking away.

He watches her, heaving a weary sigh. Half of him wonders why watching her go feels like watching his future slip away. The other half knows the answer.


End file.
